|
This is from espn's tuesday morning quarterback.
as far as i've read, this is the best analysis of what happened during the game, why the bucs won, why the raiders lost, the effect of barret robbins, the great coaching (gruden and kiffen), and not great coaching (callahan).
i've edited the article, pulling only the super bowl parts out (he delves into other topics many times)
http://espn.go.com/page2/s/tmq/030128.html
Why are you punting? By Gregg Easterbrook Page 2 columnist
Say this about the City of Tampa Buccaneers: They saved the best for last. Sports lore holds that great teams play their best game as their last game, and the Bucs passed that test. Some clubs arrive at the Super Bowl thinking, "Okay, we're here, better not blow it." Others arrive thinking, "This is what it has all been building up to," and play their finest game ever. That's what the Patriots did in the Super Bowl last year, what the Ravens did in the Super Bowl the year before that, what the Broncos did against the Packers a few years earlier, what the Cowboys did against the Bills a few years before that.
Great teams develop a belief that everything is leading toward one magnificent performance. Tampa showed that spirit Sunday. Coulda-been-great teams view getting to the Super Bowl as their vindication and, of course, hope to play well, but are not totally focused. The thought "oh well, we'll get the ball back" runs through the minds of coulda-been-great teams at the Super Bowl -- Buffalo of the 1990s, Minnesota of the 1970s -- while for the great teams every play, every second-and-six, is the single most important thing the players have ever done in their lives.
Great teams understand that all of their hard work transpired exclusively to create the moment of championship, and that they must leave everything on the field. Tampa left everything on the field Sunday; the Raiders left quite a bit back at the hotel, if not in safety-deposit boxes in Switzerland. The Buccaneers may never play like that again, and if they don't it doesn't matter. They saved the best for last.
These things said, to TMQ the determining factors were not the Tampa zone nor the big interceptions, but the Tampa offensive game plan and the breakdown of the Raiders' offensive line. Throw in rookie coach Bill Callahan going fraidy-cat with what may be the Single Worst Call in Super Bowl history, and you've got a formula for being punched out. Let's take these in turn.
Tampa's Offensive Game Plan: A top defense stopped a top offense for the nth consecutive time in the Super Bowl. But the performance of the Bucs' offense was as important.
Bear in mind that it was Tampa 6, Oakland 3 in the middle of the second quarter, very much anybody's game. Jon "I Was A Teenaged Coach" Gruden then did the smartest thing a Super Bowl coach could possibly do -- he took TMQ's advice. Last week, TMQ's Super Bowl prediction was, "The game will be won by whichever team surprises the other with a rushing-oriented game plan." At the eight-minute mark of the second, Gruden switched out of an ineffective hurry-up passing game and went to the ground game.
The Bucs put in two tight ends, while, much to TMQ's pleasure, Pro Bowl "fullback" Mike Alstott actually lined up at fullback and threw blocks. For the remainder of the half, Tampa rushed 11 times for 49 yards, threw five times for 43 yards and picked up three first downs on Oakland penalties, as the Raiders defense, expecting a pass-wacky look, seemed to have no idea how to respond to power running. Tampa scored touchdowns on both these second-quarter possessions when it went to the ground, making the count 20-3 at halftime. Everything about the switch to running worked. Two touchdowns in two possessions; Oakland's offense kept off the field while the clock ground; Oakland down 20-3 at the half, its drip-drip-drip attack not designed for comebacks.
Then, on his first possession of the second half -- knowing the Raiders spent halftime adjusting to the run -- Gruden went play-action, to fine effect. Tampa's first possession of the second half was an 89-yard, eight-minute touchdown drive that put the Bucs ahead 27-3 and caused TMQ to write the words "game over" in his notebook, though considerable entertainment remained. On that drive, the Bucs ran seven times and passed seven times, four of them play-action. This was masterful manipulation of an opponent. The effect carried over to help Tampa's defense; the Oakland offense lost heart trying to climb out of a scoreboard hole.
As for TMQ having called this shot -- I am available, my price is two No. 1s, two No. 2s and $8 million.
Oakland's Cover-Your-Eyes Offensive Line: Just how bad was Raiders Pro Bowl tackle Lincoln Kennedy, winner of the TMQ Non-QB Non-RB MVP award? Game tied at three in the first, Oakland on the Tampa 43. Kennedy barely so much as brushes Simeon Rice as he blows in to pressure Rich Gannon into throwing a pick; Kennedy looked like he was courteously stepping aside for the Queen's carriage. Instead of Oakland moving into scoring range, the Bucs drive for a field goal the other way. Kennedy gave up two sacks, had no push and once appeared simply to let go of Warren Sapp to give him a free shot at Gannon as the pass was released. Maybe the international publicity and nonstop mega-babes went to Kennedy's head after he was named TMQ Non-QB Non-RB MVP, but he looked seriously awful. On one snap, Tampa's Greg Spires blew past Kennedy to sack Gannon. Spires is a waiver-wire gentlemen who has bounced around the league. Kennedy made him look like Derrick Thomas in his prime.
The desertion of Raiders Pro Bowl center Barret Robbins -- see Single Worst Play below -- was treated by bobbleheads and sportswriters as an odd sidebar, but may have been the determining moment of the Super Bowl. Oakland denied that the disappearance of a key player on the night for the Super Bowl had any affect, but that's complete hooey. Pregame, the team was visibly deflated by this distraction, and by knowing it would take the field short-handed. Once the whistle sounded, the Long Johns offensive line played its worst game of the year.
TMQ has done several items on the fact that OL play is the essence of Oakland's league-leading offense. Rich Gannon was sacked on average less than twice per game during the regular season, despite the Raiders passing constantly, and as important, consistently had time to scan defenses and wait for those infuriating Oakland "rub" routes to develop. In the Super Bowl, Gannon was under constant pressure, sacked five times and forced into numerous hurried throws that went clang, or into the wrong hands.
The Oakland OL produced one of the worst blocking performances TMQ has ever winced through, in part because its schemes were disrupted. On most plays, one of the guards, Mo Collins or Frank Middleton, helped reserve center Adam Treu handle his man, leaving the Raiders' tackles "on islands." Left tackle Barry Sims usually gets guard help. With Robbins out and Treu getting the help, Sims was cover-your-eyes, too, on two occasions barely so much as waving at Rice before the gentleman blew in to paste Gannon.
On the first Tampa sack, for example, four minutes into game and the Raiders facing third-and-seven, Sims let Rice fly by, at best gesturing in his direction. The Raiders had five blocking four on that play, and Gannon was sacked before he could finish his drop-back. On another sack, Middleton turned to help Sims with Rice; but no one even touched Warren Sapp, who blew in to paste Gannon. Tampa blitzed eight times in the game, meaning there were usually at least five Raiders blockers on four Bucs rushers. Nevertheless, protection was awful.
Note that the game's final phase, when the Tampa defensive line was tired and Gannon had time to scan the field, the Raiders put up two fairly easy-looking touchdowns. Once Gannon had time, suddenly his offense was powerful again and the City of Tampa defense was human again. What we saw in the final 17 minutes of the Super Bowl was the tight, tense, exciting duel we would have seen through the entire game, had Robbins not flaked out and the Oakland line played per usual. In this sense, by disappearing AWOL, Robbins not only shafted his teammates, he shafted the nation, depriving us of a tight, tense, exciting Super Bowl.
Buck-Buck-Brawckkkkkk! It's 20-3 at the half and everything has gone wrong for the Raiders. But they still have the league's top offense and get the ball to start the second half. They know that if they put up two scores, the pressure will shift to Tampa's underwhelming offense.
Oakland takes the kick, runs three plays and faces fourth-and-two on its 35. Bill Callahan sends in the punting unit. No! No! A thousand times no! You're behind by 17 and must make something happen. There's no tomorrow, there is no ranking computer that gives credit for margin of victory or defeat. The Raiders have the No. 1 offense; if the No. 1 offense can't gain two yards, you might as well concede and go get a blueberry-almond martini and watch the ships put out to sea. This is the Super Bowl, there is no tomorrow. Why are you punting?
Over TMQ's house, the sky darkened and lightning flashed on this play as the football gods showed their displeasure. TMQ was screaming at the tube, "No! No!" The football gods exacted prompt revenge; Tampa took the punt and staged the 89-yard, eight-minute drive that made it 27-3 and caused TMQ to write the words "game over" in his notebook. As I wrote, I felt that the football gods were controlling my hand.
TMQ endlessly rails against fraidy-cat NFL coaches who punt when way behind, in order to avoid criticism. (If the players lose, it's their fault, but if the coach orders a gamble and the gamble fails, it's his fault.) Sure fourth-and-two is a risk, but down by 17, you've got to take some chances, and you won't find many chances more attractive than fourth-and-two. Plus there's no tomorrow. Plus it's the Super Bowl. Why are you punting?
Callahan might have been better off gambling and losing than punting. When coaches try for it in situations like these, they are challenging their own players to win the game. When coaches go fraidy-cat in situations like these, they are announcing that the coaches have quit, so the players might as well too.
After touchdowns made it Tampa 34-9, then 34-15, then 34-21 late in the third through the mid-fourth, Callahan never ordered an onside kick, either. Sure an onside is a gamble. But you're behind and time is running out and it's the Super Bowl. Why aren't you playing to win rather than for a respectable final margin of defeat? Driven to mighty fury, the football gods denied Oakland even that.
'Tis Better to Have Rushed and Lost Than Never to Have Rushed at All: Super Bowl tied at three at the end of the first quarter, Oakland faced third-and-two on the City of Tampa 43. It's anybody's game. The Bucs stopped a short run on the previous play, so won't be expecting another run, and they have the league's No. 1 pass defense, while their run defense is human. You can't win the Super Bowl unless you can run for two yards; plus, given the field position, if you pick up one yard, then you go for it on fourth. Run! Instead it's an empty-backfield roll-out play, Rich Gannon sprints backwards, bad pass, intercepted, Tampa scores on its possession. You can't win the Super Bowl if you can't run for two yards.
At the start of the third quarter the Raiders again faced third-and-two and again Gannon sprinted backward, this time for an incompletion. You can't win the Super Bowl if you can't run for two yards.
Single Worst Play of Super Bowl XXXVII: The Single Worst Play happened on Saturday when Robbins went AWOL. At this writing it remained unclear why. Maybe Robbins has some genuine psychological affliction that we should not judge; maybe he's an incredible jerk. Whatever the reason, he totally shafted over his team, setting up its offensive line for its collapse.
Stat of the Week: The Tampa defense outscored the Oakland offense, 21-15.
Stat of the Week No. 2: In three playoff games, the Buccaneer defense allowed three touchdowns while scoring four touchdowns.
Stat of the Week No. 3: Oakland recorded 19 yards rushing.
Stat of the Week No. 4: Bill Romanowski became the 12th player to appear in five Super Bowls. Just one gentleman has played in six: Mike Lodish. You knew that, right?
Stat of the Week No. 5: Jerry Rice acquired one of the few possible records he does not already own, most touchdowns in postseason play -- 22 -- passing Thurman Thomas and Emmitt Smith.
Stat of the Week No. 6: Tampa can't run? The 2003 NFL postseason rushing leader was Michael Pittman of the Bucs.
Stats of the Week No. 7: Through its 17 games, Tampa's pass defenders allowed 11 touchdown completions while recording 40 interceptions and running back eight for touchdowns.
Stat of the Week No. 8: The cumulative passer rating of Tampa opponents through all 17 games was 44.8. Ryan Leaf's career rating was 50.
The Deuce Disasters: The Raiders were right to go for deuces after every touchdown. Normally, TMQ says take the 99 percent chance of one over the 40 percent chance of two, but Oakland was so far behind it needed every point.
All three Oakland deuce attempts, however, were regular passes from regular sets. TMQ's immutable law of the goal line says that you can power-run, play-fake or rollout, but a regular pass won't work because at that point the defense has so little territory to defend. Pittsburgh, for all its faults this season, was awesome on deuce plays, because every call involved rollouts and trickery. Oakland, poised at the goal line, used a regular pass from a regular set three times and went oh-fer-three. Ay caramba.
Raiders: Don't Walk Out Over This One, Okay? Going for two after making it 34-21 with six minutes left, Oakland threw to Jerry Porter, who appeared to catch it in the air and be pushed out. TMQ thought it was a classic force-out and that the catch should have counted; the zebra on the scene thought otherwise; Callahan challenged and announcers talked about how a force-out cannot be reviewed, as by quirk, some rulings including force-out are not subject to review; after review, the play stood as called, no catch. Please, Raider Nation, don't claim this is more evidence of the international Zionist-Hindu conspiracy against you. (When TMQ lived in Pakistan, local newspapers were full of talk of "Zionist-Hindu" schemes to control the world.)
Everyone missed that the zebra on the scene did not rule that Porter was out of bounds -- he ruled pass incomplete. Porter held the ball, flew through the air and then, as he came down, the ball hit the ground and bounced. NFL rules now say that if a receiver catches in the air and appears to have possession and control, but the ball bounces when he hits the ground, it's incomplete. TMQ has doubts about that rule -- in common-sense terms, Porter's play looked good to me. Just as, in common-sense terms, Charles Woodson sure made Tom Brady fumble in the Snow Bowl. But in terms of the rules, Brady didn't fumble and Porter did not make the catch. Zebras were right both times.
The only reason referee Bill Carollo allowed the Raiders to challenge is that what they were challenging was a ruling of incompletion, not force-out: a complete/incomplete judgment can be reversed. All you had to do to know this was to watch the zebra immediately give the sign for incompletion, not the sign for receiver out of bounds.
Sweet Play of the Day: Leading 13-3, Tampa had first-and-goal on the Oakland five with 34 seconds in the half. Receiver Keenan McCardell split right, covered by Charles Woodson. For this situation, NFL teams have fallen in love with the "fade," in which the receiver runs shallow to the pin at the corner of the end zone, looking over his shoulder back across the defender. McCardell took off as if for a fade, and Woodson turned to defend a ball coming over his head. Brad Johnson then deliberately underthrew the pass, and McCardell turned the other way to catch it behind his body as Woodson kept watching for the fade action. This is a modern variation on the old deliberate-underthrow that Joe Namath used to Don Maynard, on plays that cornerbacks thought were fly patterns, and it was the beauty play of the Super Bowl.
Sweet Play If It Had Come, Oh, Two Quarters Sooner: Oakland trailing 34-15 with six minutes left, Gannon hit Jerry Rice on beauty post route for a 48-yard touchdown and the Raiders' last-gasp. Fifty-four minutes had ticked off the clock, and this was the only the second time Gannon had thrown down the deep middle. No one has ever beaten a two-deep zone defense by throwing nothing but outs and to the short middle, which is what the Raiders had tried to this point. The post is Rice's best route -- remember how he killed the Bolts with it in the Niners-Chargers Super Bowl? -- yet Oakland had Rice spend the day running sideways. Yumpin' jiminy.
Precision Blitzing: Though many local-newscast-class sportswriters attributed the dominant City of Tampa defensive performance to blitzing, the Bucs blitzed eight times on 55 Oakland snaps -- 15 percent blitzing, less than the league average of about 20 percent. But when Tampa did blitz, it was often effective because, rather than blitz on third-and-long as every NFL offensive coordinator expects every defensive coordinator to do, the Bucs blitzed when the Raiders weren't expecting it.
Monte Kiffin did not call his first blitz until the 10-minute mark of the second quarter, and it came on a first-and-10. Gannon appeared so rattled by a corner blitz on a non-blitz down that he sailed the ball right to Dexter Jackson for the interception, though Gannon had time. On the first snap of Oakland's next possession, again first-and-10 and the first play after a corner blitz -- you'd never expect that twice in a row, right? -- Kiffin called the same thing, forcing Gannon to throw the ball away.
And In My Memories, I Was Constantly Being Asked Out by Hot Babes: After Oakland missed its third of three two-point conversion attempts and trailed by 13 instead of 10 points as it would have been had the Raiders taken singletons, John Madden reminisced, "When I was coaching in this league, I never went for two until the very end, regardless of the scoreboard. I believed in always taking one point unless it was the very end."
Surely, Madden is in sync with TMQ's immutable law of the conversion: Take One Till the Fourth. But John -- when you were a head coach, there was no two-point option. Madden ran the Raiders from 1969 to 1978. The old AFL two-point rule was ended when the AFL and old NFL merged in 1967. The deuce conversion option was not reinstated until 1994.
Oh Ye Mortals, Trifle Not with the Football Gods Jerry Porter of the Raiders had the incredible gall to call the Tampa defensive backs, who outscored the entire Oakland offense, "awful across the board, they're awful". The football gods will exact vengeance on Porter for this.
But note that the story, from the New York Daily News, says that not only did Jon "I Was a Teenaged Coach" Gruden play Rich Gannon in Bucs practices: he told Bucs defensive players the Raiders' audible code-words, and the Raiders came into the Super Bowl not having changed their code words. Oakland knew Gruden knew its audible codes and yet kept them! The Daily News says that during the game, when Gannon barked audibles, Tampa defenders immediately called out the play. Ye gods.
|